


Fracture

by In_Factorem_Verba



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Alcohol induced dubious consent, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Bucky has feelings, Cigarettes, Drinking to Cope, Excessive Drinking, Jealous Bucky Barnes, M/M, There may also be a little Rumlow thrown in
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-26
Updated: 2016-08-26
Packaged: 2018-08-11 02:05:44
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,154
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7871434
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/In_Factorem_Verba/pseuds/In_Factorem_Verba
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Steve?” The brunet mumbled after a long moment, earning a soft hum from Steve before continuing. “Let’s start over.”</p><p>“Start over?”</p><p>“Hey Steve,” Bucky prompts, entirely ignoring the confusion on the blond’s face. “I can’t make it to dinner with you tonight, and I’m not too sure I’ll be able to make it tomorrow either.”<br/>~<br/>In which Bucky decides to delve into drinking as a problem solving mechanism, pines and makes some regrettable choices out of spite.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Fracture

Weekends were spent perched on bar stools or lounging at unbelievably cushioned booths, the sound of music always meeting Bucky’s ears. Sometimes it was whatever mix the bartender was interested in, and others it was smoother, more calm, accompanied by soft voices as the live bands put on their shows. There were a select few times where it was pulsating, like a heartbeat all it’s own, deep and loud enough to deafen out the best of thoughts.

Tonight, had been a mix of them all as he hopped from location to location, moving from bars to clubs through the city. Every time he emerged the sky was darker and the city was shifting into a sort of second skin, his vision slowly beginning to blur at the edges. 

He tended to be the responsible one, but that was out of the question tonight. He couldn’t explain why exactly, but he felt fury bubbling in the pit of his stomach and the only way to quell it, the only way he was willing to anyhow, was by drowning it in liquor.

Of course, if he thought about it, he knew what this was. He was all too aware of the bitter flavor that lingered on his tongue, no matter how many shots he downed or cigarettes he went through. Even now, his blood boiled in his veins. However, he had to bite his tongue, to swallow back the acrid taste, trying to wash it away, his lips reluctant to pull back from the rim of the bottle he had in hand. He remained hunched over his stool, this time, unlike the rest, he was alone at the edge of every bar.

It wasn’t exactly easy to remind himself that he had no right to be this way. He was jealous. Purely and damn near animalistically, jealous. It was unreasonable and he knew it, but he didn’t know how to stop it or keep it at bay. So instead, he walked away, drinking himself into what he hoped would be numbness.

It wasn’t like he had a say in what someone else did with their life. It was insane to want to dictate who could and couldn’t be seen. If your best friend chooses to get close to other people, that’s not just something to be jealous over. Even if that person is a dangerously gorgeous woman who’s just his type.

Bucky’s fingers began to drum an irritated rhythm against the bar top, eyes focused on the line between the emptiness of the bottle and the smooth, settled surface of the liquid inside. He was furious and he knew he had no right to be, but he couldn’t ease the thoughts that flooded into his mind over and over again, each time with more clarity.

Steve going home and winding up with her and waking up in her bed.

She’s five feet and seven inches of confidence, sealed with perfect milky skin, a flawless body, and her lips always painted in an alluring red. Bucky had to admit that she was stunning, he’d even been captivated by her presence, the wit and charm she possessed wasn’t exactly easy to ignore.

As a best friend, you should be proud and excited when the evidence of a building relationship becomes apparent, even tease or celebrate it. Instead, Bucky sat here, on an unknown hour of this bender.

Margaret Carter had come along, and swept Steve off his feet and Bucky was stuck to sit back and watch as the man he’d hopelessly fallen in love with, was drifting away to her.  

It felt like a sickness roiling in his gut, and it certainly wasn’t from the abundance of alcohol with a lack of food, though he felt assured that was playing a part. This felt like betrayal but no part of it could be claimed, he just had to swallow it back, trying to chase it with more liquor. The brunet was stuck between a rock and a hard place. He could keep as close as a friend could and watch in misery as he lost Steve more and more, or he could treat this like a bandaid, cause if he was gonna lose Steve, he’d rather it be sooner than later.

How could someone choose between living in a lie, smiling falsely and pretending everything was alright, or just abandoning the one person he’d give everything up for. It felt despicable to even contemplate the choices, but here he was, hot tears stinging at his eyes because what other choice did he have?

This wasn’t something he could address, just casually toss out there. ‘Hey, I’m in love with you and every time you’re around her it feels like I can’t breathe’. That seemed wildly inappropriate and selfish, not to mention that it could just as easily cause him to lose the last ounces of his friendship anyway.

Bucky let out an exasperated huff of a sigh, eyes falling shut as he attempted to will it all away. To disappear Carter, and go back a few years. Back when things were simple, to when he was blissfully unaware of his own feelings and him and Steve were just friends, housemates, and their largest struggle was dinner and completing projects for school on time.

He slowly reopened his eyes, and of course, the only thing in front of him was still the cold bottle, though more emptied than he remembered it being. Inhaling deeply,  Bucky shifted, the world tilting quickly as he attempted to reach back for his wallet, patting all his pockets before making it to his jacket, sighing lightly in relief when he grabbed it. He pulled out a few bills before knocking back the bottle to finish the drink, though he certainly didn’t need it.

Bucky almost stumbled to his feet, having to squeeze his eyes shut before opening them, shaking his head a little to try and right himself, letting the world stabilize again before attempting to take a step. It was much easier to execute in thought.

He headed for the door, making it through a few people who massed around him, their bodies lingering too close against his own for longer than he wanted before he pushed passed. Once the door was open it was like he hit a wall of deafening silence, his ears ringing harshly as the sound of the city washed over him, low and calm in it’s sleep compared to the roar within the building.

He glanced along either side of the building, noting a man near the corner, the glow of a cigarette reminding Bucky that he was out. He sighed and took a few steps over to lean back against the building for support, pulling his phone out and squinting at the brightness of the screen.

A text bar in his notifications catching his attention before he looked to the time. _Twelve-thirty_. He sighed heavily before reluctantly opening the texts, noting that they were all from Steve. He already knew what at least one of them said, this was Steve after all, and he’d always worry.

 

_Text- **7:00 pm**_

_/ Hey, me and Peggy were gonna go grab something to eat, you wanna come? /_

 

Of course not. That’s what started all this in the first place. He felt his stomach churn, threatening to spill the contents of his stomach onto the sidewalk.

 

**_7:20 pm_ **

_/ I guess you’re busy. Don’t say I didn’t offer. /_

_/If you get this, we’re going to Roberta’s, and you can either meet us there or let me know if you want me to pick anything up for you :) /_

 

**_9:01 pm_ **

_/I’m gonna go on the assumption you don’t have your phone or you let it die again and don’t know it cause you never ignore food./_

_/ Where are you?/_

 

**_10:32 pm_ **

_/ Alright, I tried calling you and it rang twice before you dumped my call/_

_/ What the fuck is going on Bucky? /_

_/ If you were busy you could have told me and I’d have left you alone. /_

 

**_11:03 pm_ **

_/ Now I’m worried. You aren’t answering me, you aren’t reading my texts, you aren’t home. I don’t know what’s happening. Sam and Nat haven’t heard from you either so I assume you’re drinking alone. /_

 

**_11:04 pm_ **

_/ If you don’t respond in the next 30 minutes, I’m coming to look for you. /_

 

He groaned audibly at that, knowing that the blond meant it. Of course, he wasn’t sure exactly how he planned to find him between their apartment in Brooklyn and the entirety of Manhattan. He knew that wouldn’t stop Steve from trying, he was too stubborn and hardheaded.

“Well, shit.”

The brunet mumbled incoherently, nearly fumbling his phone as he pulled up the voice mail, registering there were several more missed calls, a part of him just wanting to hear Steve’s voice. He barely managed to key in his passcode after the third try, pressing the phone to his ear and leaning his head back against the bricks, staring upwards at nothing in particular.

 

_/Three unheard messages, first unheard message: “Wow, okay then, asshole.” /_

 

_/ “I just wanted to see if you were okay, you just rushed off earlier too. I don’t appreciate you ignoring me, if something’s wrong, I’d rather talk about it. I..”He pauses and sighs, a slight shuffle coming through. “Just let me know you’re okay, please.” /_

 

_/ “Bucky, please. I’m out looking for you, even if you don’t want to talk to me, at least go to someone else, okay? Just.. god please don’t do anything stupid. Please. Just, c’mon home Buck...” /_

 

He nearly dropped his phone at hearing the blond’s tone, tensing and debating on turning it off. Guilt was gnawing at him, leaving an uneasiness to swirl in the pit of his stomach. His eyes squeezed shut and heat rushed to his cheeks, spreading out in a bright red, his body going rigid as he attempted to fight back the urge to shudder. Now was _not_  the time to be thinking of something like that, but that’s all his mind served him. An inappropriate and lustful imagining of his name and a plea falling for a much different reason.  

The brunet shook his head, immediately patting his pocket as though he’d find the long ago emptied pack of cigarettes. He wasn’t a smoker most times, but his habit had picked up two fold in the last month. Steve hated it and Natasha swore up and down it was from stress and Bucky couldn’t disagree if he wanted to.

 

_Outgoing text- **12:34am**_

/ _Im alo ve. abd jsut not comign home tnight. Dint kep lookig for me im finee_ /

 

Just like that after he hit send and had it powering down as he was stuffing it deep into his pocket before biting his lip. Now was when his brain decided to offer up a thought, one he knew better than to take, but with this much alcohol and regret, nothing seemed like a particularly bad idea. Even if it did, he’d ignore it and do it anyway out of spite.

He glanced over, watching the man for a moment, his brow knitting together as he assessed him, slowly coming to realize that he recognized him from several other bars he’d just been to, and once it all clicked, he didn’t hesitate.

Bucky pushed away from the wall, too focused on his goal to notice he’d managed not to stumble, inhaling deeply the smell of the city, but mostly the lingering bitterness of the smoke from the drag the man at the other end of the building had taken, approaching him with a steady determination.

The movement had gotten his attention and he flicked the remainder of the cigarette away, pushing away from the wall and watching Bucky with a small smirk taking to his features as he sized the brunet up, coming quickly to the realization of what he hoped Bucky’s intentions were.

“Hey there, you gotta minute?” Bucky drawled out, blatantly letting his eyes drag over the man, wanting anything to drown out the possibility of facing the reality that awaited him at home. The man wasn’t exactly his type, but this would serve his purpose well enough, at least he hoped so.

A low hum was the response he received as the man stepped forward. “Hi… For _you_  sweetheart, I got _all night_.”

That was all the confirmation he needed before he was letting the alcohol do his talking, and moving for that matter, and it was working marvelously for being such a horrendous idea. But he wasn’t allowing himself a single thought because really, he wanted the thoughts to stop. He needed to silence his mind, to let it flatline so he could forget, to feel something other than a slow and creeping numbness of feelings that had come to eat him alive.  

So he followed the stranger with his dark and handsome features, with that lilt in his voice that screamed confidence and New York to the core. He paid no mind to being led into a backroom, or the group of men that called out to the other brunet that Bucky had decided was older than him by a fair amount of years but that bothered him very little when he was clearly fit for his age.

He minded even less when he was suddenly swung forward and pivoted by the strong grip on his wrist, his back greeting the wall and forcing the breath out of him. This wasn’t something he should do, but right now he just couldn’t care.

A few noises worked free from him as the stranger’s hands and mouth began to explore his body, moving and removing clothes as necessary to expose more skin, each touch more greedy than the last. Moments began to blur together, his mind already getting lost to this, only briefly being brought back by the sound of the stranger’s voice.

Until he was brought back rather abruptly by the harsh sting against his shoulders, the man hoisting him up, his body leaning heavily against the wall, leaving his shoulders to be roughly pressed up along the brick so that it raked at his skin. Though, if he was honest, he didn’t really care about that either.

Soon though, lust was blinding him, turning his vision to white and his voice ragged though he was too numbed to filter himself or even attempt to restrain it. This was exactly what he’d wanted after all. However, it wasn’t long after that, darkness encompassed him though he certainly wasn’t asleep yet. But the more the alcohol wore off, the closer he came to sleep until finally, that too swallowed him whole.

 

// _beep beep beep -_ -//

 

His brow furrowed, nose wrinkling slightly as he groaned, vaguely aware of the light that managed to glare through his now tightly squeezed eyes as the dull noise seemed to grow in intensity.

 

// **_beep_ _beep_ _beep_ ** _-_ -//

 

An alarm, he thought after suddenly becoming aware of it, swatting blindly in that direction to silence it. He breathed a sigh of relief at the quiet, reluctantly and slowly cracking an eye, wincing and drawing in a hiss of a breath at it before trying again.

Bucky blinked blearily though it did little to no good, his eyes remaining unfocused and hazy, immediately losing that want to focus as his headache seemed to catch up to him as though he’d been physically struck in the head, and the rest of his body for that matter, by a building.

“Holy shit, ouch.” He practically wheezed, the sound of his own voice like a seismic jolt to the head. 

After a long moment and a few disgruntled and pained groans, Bucky forced himself to open his eyes, focusing on the room that was around him. He sighed a little before his eyes were wide and he was jolting upright, realizing that this was most assuredly _not_  his room, or any room he knew before it was tilting and wobbling in his vision.  

“What.. in the fuck..” Bucky mumbled, trying to not only figure out where he was but how he’d gotten here and just how much he’d had to drink because his head was pounding murderously.

He rubbed a hand over his face roughly, groaning again before slowly and reluctantly moving to swing his legs over the side of the bed. Blinking again, he managed to discern that it was not someone’s home but a hotel room and that only eased his mind so much.

With a glance around the room, he spotted his things easily enough, and after a few long moments of convincing and a lot of combing his fingers through his unruly hair, he was on his feet and dressed. Making sure he had his wallet, phone and house keys, he half stumbled for the door, still feeling drunk and frankly, he probably was. 

A thought dawned on him causing him to freeze in the doorway, scrambling to find his phone, turning it back on though he hesitated to even look at the screen, not wanting to acknowledge whatever it was he’d decided to do the night before. He shoved it back into his pocket, shaking his head and sighing heavily as he ignored the overwhelming urge to give in and dial Steve’s number.

He was definitely still residually intoxicated and it was confirmed by the way the pattern on the carpet swirled and blended together, the hallway seeming to tilt when it undoubtedly wasn’t. He sighed as he approached the elevator doors, pressing the button and stepping back to wait, pulling out his phone and wincing at the screen.

 

**_9:17am_ **

_/14 missed calls/_

_/26 unread messages/_

 

This time, not all of them were from Steve. 

He heaved a sigh, not even bothering to read the texts though he couldn’t help but see that one of them was from Peggy and suddenly his stomach wanted to reject its contents. He didn’t hesitate, pulling up Steve’s contact and bringing his phone to his ear, not really caring about what the texts said.

“Oh my god, Bucky??” Steve’s voice asked hesitantly after only the second ring, sounding almost afraid through the tiredness in his voice. “ Where are you? Are you okay? I’ve been losing my shit--” 

“Steve.. I’m sorry about everything last night,” Bucky blurted out, folding an arm over his chest as he looked down at his feet. “I’m fine, okay? And I don’t exactly know yet?” He mumbled a bit shamefully. “I fucked up. We um, I want, I was hoping we could maybe talk?” 

He was about to look around to see if there was some indication of what hotel he was at, hearing the elevator settle before it dinged. The doors slid open and his eyes started at the black boots, trailing up along black pants and not making it to the belt before a voice he now recognized met his ears.

“Mornin’ sweetheart.”

Before he could say anything, or even register that Steve was asking who that was, a sharp pain resonated through his head knocking him back and blackness greeted his vision, swallowing him whole as he collapsed to the floor. His phone discarded to the side, Steve’s voice calling out hopelessly, trying to get a response and listen to what was happening, completely unaware that the brunet’s unconscious body was being dragged back into the elevator. 

Once again, light was seeping into the blackness, his eyes struggling to open, feeling weighted. The ache that was lingering even in his bones seemed much worse now, even breathing was stinging at him. His ears were ringing and nothing but a high pitched keening coming through, though he was vaguely aware of some sound outside of that. 

A voice.

Not _the_  voice though. The one he’d somehow come to be familiar with. His mind immediately providing him with another sample of it.

/ _Mm, would y’ look’t who was tryin’ t’ get away this mornin’ boys?_ /.

When he followed through with the bad decision, he hardly had a clue what that really meant, now he was afraid he’d never find out.

He tried to swallow back a groan, his eyes finally forcing open as he blinked away the blackness though they were unable to focus on anything, even the color seemingly drained from the objects around him.

He went to move, tensing just a little, a shock quickly putting an end to the attempt, leaving him to cry out a little though his voice was weak. Cold. He was freezing but too numbed to truly notice it digging into his skin like needles, and suddenly he was becoming aware that his clothes were stuck to him.

Lifting his head a little he glanced down, noting that he was in fact soaked, before his vision faded and blurred, leaving an illusion of both movement, and multiples of the same thing so he closed his eyes again. This time, he felt something against his skin. Hands.

“Sir?” It called out, only just processing to Bucky’s ears over the ringing. “Sir, can you hear me?” 

He wanted to speak, to respond somehow, his eyes struggling to open again, but his head was falling back against what he only briefly acknowledged was pavement. The keening was slowly becoming apparent as a siren, but as soon as he realized that, the darkness was already consuming him again, drawing him back under the surface.

 

_//beep....beep... beep //_

 

Bucky inhaled deeply, feeling a slight hinderance, groaning softly as he tried to reach for his face, fingertips brushing against what he assessed was plastic, pulling it away from his face. Everything hurt still, but this time, not nearly as bad as before and he wasn’t cold or wet anymore. 

“Bucky?”

His eyes snapped to attention as the sound registered over the beeps that he’d contemplated being another alarm going off though that didn’t make sense either.

“ _Buck_?”

“S-steve?” He responded, blinking a little as he could hardly see anything in front of himself, the world shifting too quickly and the light too bright.

“Thank god.” The voice responded, panicked but relieved, sounding too distorted to be Steve’s but the brunet hoped. “Yeah, Buck, I’m here.” He assured before a warm and gentle hand was against his own, once again, the feeling of plastic becoming uncomfortably apparent.

“I’m sorry.” Bucky blurted out, the realization dawning on him that this was a hospital room, shortly after he attempted to move again, feeling a pinch in his arm that he assumed was an IV.

“No, don’t. It’s okay. I don’t need the apologies. I’m just worried about you.” Steve said softly, and Bucky could swear his voice was nasally and weak and god it wrenched at him to know he’d caused all of this, all because he was being a bitter jackass.

“What, where are we?” Bucky asked almost fearful of the answer. “Why are we at the hospital?”

“You were too roughed up to bring home. Good thing I didn’t cause you’ve got a couple broken ribs, a severe concussion, and alcohol poisoning among a few other things. The police will want a statement from you now that you’re awake...”

It took the brunet a long moment to realize his eyes were open, locked onto the reddened and slightly puffy cheeks and still panicked and tired eyes of Steve’s.

“Hey? Just rest, okay? Don’t move around too much.” He insisted, Bucky’s brow only furrowing as he blinked a bit more, noticing the cuts on Steve’s lip and cheek.

“Steve? Why is...what happened t' you?”

“You.. You don’t remember?” Steve asked in a bit of disbelief as much as concern, his brow knitting together as he frowned slightly, not really waiting for a response since the answer was clear.

“You called me and then went quiet, I was going to the police but the cleaning staff at the hotel found your phone within about fifteen minutes. I was heading out a few blocks down after retrieving your phone and I heard something and sure enough, it was a few assholes and you were givin’ ‘em hell by the docks.” Steve said, offering a weak smile, and squeezing his hand a little and shrugging. “So I stepped in, took a couple hits.”

Bucky swallowed thickly, still not really sure of just what had happened but he was beginning to think that was a good thing. He almost wished Steve hadn’t, but then again, he also wished that he could just have a damn cigarette and maybe a day’s worth of sleep.  

“You had ‘em on the ropes though.” Steve added after a moment, getting Bucky to look at him, both of them smiling a bit crookedly.

“‘M sure.” Bucky half croaked, a near laugh bubbling forward at the memories of the times their roles had been the opposite, Steve being the one needing the saving. “Steve?”

“Yeah, Buck?”

“I need t’ talk t’ you.”

“You’re talking now.”

“Shut up. No.” Bucky grumbled, shaking his head a bit, his voice still slurred. “It’s important.”

“Maybe it should wait until you aren’t high on painkillers?”

“Nooo. Now.” Bucky insisted, sounding more like a pouty child than anything as he shook his head again, feeling instantly dizzy. He was panicked, more so than it seemed as he felt like his insides were being shredded by the anxiety of what he had to say. “I was mad at y’ which’s why I didn’t answer you. It was stupid and I fucked up. I’m sorry. You went through all of this because--”

“Bucky, no--” 

“No, _you_  no. Lemmie finish, god dammit.” He snapped, trying to sound determined but not really managing it, ending up sounding more broken than anything.

“No, I won’t. Because _I’m_  mad at _you_. You scared the shit out of me because you were a stubborn asshole and god only knows what other trouble you got yourself into last night with the injuries you have. You were so damn afraid of telling me the truth that you went on an all out bender and nearly got yourself killed.”  

“Wait, what?” Bucky asked almost wide eyed, blinking a little before frowning, trying to figure out what truth Steve was talking about. “The truth?”

“Yeah, you may not remember, but I do.” Steve grumbled sternly, breathing out a heavy sigh before continuing. “You called me finally at like three A.M, you were pretty out of it but boy, you gave me what for. Told me I’m the most gorgeous person you know. That you hated my guts, and Peggy’s, because I was letting her steal me away from you.”

Bucky could swear he was already dead, and if he wasn’t he was wishing he was, or at least unconscious again because this was torture. The blond sounded angry, and really, Bucky couldn’t blame him, but he just wished it was over, and that he could escape his mistake.

“Said that I’ve no business being so goddamn perfect. That you’re an idiot because what good could you do for me but you can’t leave me either because you’re too selfish. That it isn’t fair that I made you fall in love with me, when I couldn’t possibly love you back, when we’re supposed to be friends and you couldn’t stand being my best friend anymore like this, then you hung up on me.”

Bucky wanted to respond, but what could he possibly say that would make that go away. There were no words that he could say to take away from it, or make Steve forget it and god did he hope that whatever was happening would get on with it. Without even thinking, an apology spilled from his lips, saying it like a mantra as though it would block everything else out.  

“I got some nerve, huh?” Steve asked, his voice almost sounding amused, shaking his head a little before shifting to sit on the edge of the bed. “Having another friend to talk to, who understands what it’s like to be in love with your best friend. Who tries to convince you to ask them out because you’re head over heels for ‘em and too intimidated by his experience and how perfect he is. And when you get the chance to tell him…” 

Bucky bit his lip, wincing a little as he came to realize it was cut but it didn’t stop him, Steve’s words only just processing in his head as he stared in disbelief at what he was hearing.

“Well, he’s in too much trouble, and he doesn’t remember the whole speech you managed to give him after pulling him from the shore of the river. The one you’d hoped to give him at home, that’s been gnawing at you for weeks. The one where every time you think about it, your stomach does a flip. Where you spill your guts only for him to stop breathing…” 

“I don’t und--” Bucky started, a panic rising up that this was all a joke, a mockery of him and his feelings, but Steve’s lips were against his and he couldn’t bring himself to do a damn thing about it, not that he wanted to. He made a weak sound when the blond pulled away, feeling as though he couldn’t breathe at the separation.

 “Does that clear it up for you,” Steve murmured against his lips, stealing another quick kiss. “Or do I gotta spell it out for you? Try to redo the entire speech.”

“Mm, maybe you oughta try again, I dunno if I really caught it all. My head’s still a bit fuzzy.” Bucky said coyly, feeling giddiness boiling up in his chest, a small but slowly growing grin on his lips before Steve easily claimed them again.

“You’re a jerk, Barnes.” 

“I know. ‘M sorry. I never meant for all this...” 

“I know. It’s alright though.” Steve insisted, sitting back and looking over the scrapes and bruises that littered Bucky’s skin.

“Steve?” The brunet mumbled after a long moment, earning a soft hum from Steve before continuing. “Let’s start over.”

“Start over?”

“Hey Steve,” Bucky prompts, entirely ignoring the confusion on the blond’s face. “I can’t make it to dinner with you tonight, and I’m not too sure I’ll be able to make it tomorrow either.”

Steve smiled boyishly, amused by how easily something like this came to Bucky, even after everything else.

“Well, that’s alright. Another time maybe?” 

“Definitely. But, maybe we go t’ Peaches instead or Roberta’s? Just you an’ me.” 

“Well,” Steve said with a hum, biting his lip a little to resist the smile that crept onto his mouth, trying not to get ahead of himself. “That sounds an awful lot like you’re askin’ me on a date, Barnes.” 

“Next Saturday. At eight.” Bucky chuckled a little, nudging against Steve’s arm. “Don’t be late.”

“For our first date? I wouldn’t miss it for the world.”


End file.
